


allergic to colour

by phloridas



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Allergic reaction, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Massage, and some truly lethal fluff at the end, because i had to write about phil's cherry blossom photo, blowjob, that picture is pure happiness alright
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-07
Updated: 2018-04-07
Packaged: 2019-04-19 13:41:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14238495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phloridas/pseuds/phloridas
Summary: “You’re not going anywhere near my asshole with that itch cream, Phil Lester.”“But it providesrelief, Dan. And it sounds like you could use some.”Or, Dan gets a rash and Phil soothes him. (And they enjoy some cherry blossoms.)





	allergic to colour

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thanks to @moon-boye for betaing this, and the rest of the Duck Demons for encouraging "the rash fic"! 
> 
> This is all your fault. I hope you're happy with yourselves.

You’d think it was bad enough Dan couldn’t stop scratching. This stupid shirt. And in the middle of his yoga session, too? How  _r_ _ude._

But when the claws came scraping at his throat, pulling it tighter than any anxiety attack would and pushing his breath out in tight gasps that had nothing to do with how far his legs were stretched out, Dan figures the only solution is to whip the offending garment over his head. Beside him, Phil’s dropped his bridge pose and is staring at Dan with wide eyes and parted lips. The blood has all but drained in his face.

“Dan. Holy shit, are you _alright?_ ”

Dan just shakes his head, hand slipping against his black yoga mat as he takes off for the kitchen. His heart is pounding, every inch of his chest and back and neck on fire as blackness swirls against the edges of his vision. It’s a miracle he reaches that pill bottle in time. The cracker he forces down with the antihistamine almost splits his throat apart, but within seconds, Dan’s gulping down sweet, sweet air. His skin still pulses with heat, but at least it’s not begging to be scratched.

Which is good, since Phil’s got his arm in a death grip right now.

A kaleidoscope of emotions plays across his eyes in a matter of seconds, the clear alarm sending Dan’s heart slamming even harder against his chest. “Jesus christ, babe. Do you need to go to—to hospital, should I call an am—“

“I’m fine, Phil.” Dan’s voice comes out deep and scratchy, and he coughs. It feels like someone’s stuffed a pillow in his chest.

Phil rubs his hand up and down Dan's arm, his other hovering just above Dan's left shoulder before fluttering back down to the counter. Dan wants to lean into his touch, but his neck still burns, so...maybe not. Phil leads them both to the table and Dan sighs as he settles into a seat. He’s desperate to run a nail along the little bumps he can feel popping along his spine, but clasps his hands instead. Phil pushes a curl back, Dan sighing into the gentle pressure running down his cheek.  
  
"Dan, have you seen yourself? You look like you've just aged forty years. Are you sure you don't need A&E?" Phil's voice is shaking almost as much as his fingers.  
  
"I--shit, do I?”  
  
"Yeah, go in the bathroom. At least you don't resemble a twice-baked beachgoer anymore. That was scary."  
  
So Dan goes. And when he shoots a look behind him at the pair of feet padding along in his wake, Phil just says, "I'm getting the itch cream."

Dan opens his mouth to protest, but a raise of Phil's eyebrows snaps his jaws back together pretty quickly. Alright, yeah. He doesn't really want to do it himself.  
  
They giggle over the tweet draft and Dan hesitates, not quite wanting to expose himself, but a whisper from Phil has him pressing the blue button with a smile.

On the moon bed, Phil’s hands run up and down Dan’s back, careful not to press too hard into the hives that have angrily announced their presence, slick with anti-itch cream and just the right amount of lovely. Dan can feel himself unraveling.

Then, Phil presses his thumbs into that sensitive spot in Dan’s shoulder and it’s all Dan can do to keep himself from letting out a deep moan. As it is, he sighs, long and sweet. A whimper trickles out despite himself.

Phil’s hands freeze, thumbs pressing further into the meaty bit just beneath Dan’s shoulder blade, as something presses up against his leg.

 _Fuck._ Dan whines again, the noise just rising from the muffle of their pillow.

Phil’s hands work their way down Dan’s back again, this time teasing at the waistband of his pants. (He’d ditched the workout shorts once he’d flopped onto the bed.) Dan bunches the grey sheets in his fists and opens his eyes to glimpse the corner of a smirk curling up Phil’s cheek.

“You’re not going anywhere near my asshole with that itch cream, Phil Lester.”

“You can’t tell me what to do,” Phil giggles, tiptoeing his fingers across Dan’s lower back.

“I swear to--” Dan gasps as the pressure leaves his back and he watches Phil reach for the white and blue tube. “Don’t you _dare_ , Phil. That shit’s gonna burn.”

Phil’s giggles are near-silent gasps now. Dan feels, rather than sees, the cool plastic dancing along his skin. “But it provides _relief_ , Dan. And it sounds like you could use some.”

He sure could, if the throbbing in his pants is anything to go by. “Yeah, but not from you.”

Dan flips over to stop Phil’s scissoring fingers from coming anywhere near his ass, gasping as the sheets scratch against his still sensitive skin.

Phil turns a wounded face to him. “Well, who _are_ you gonna get it from, then? Is there a secret boyfriend I don’t know about? Have you been seeing Prince William on the side?”

“Ha. Me seeing actual royalty. Can you imagine that?” Dan reaches for the bedside drawer. “You know I can relieve myself quite well, thanks.”

“Aren’t we a bit past that, Dan?” Phil makes grabby hands and Dan considers him for a second before tossing him the lube and hooking his fingers under Phil’s black shirt, sliding that and then his grey sweatpants off. He presses a kiss to Phil’s collarbone and feels him shudder beneath Dan’s loose grip.

Phil’s lips trace along Dan’s face, finally meeting his lips and setting off an explosion of warmth deep in Dan’s stomach. Dan squirms against him, the scrape of bedsheets against his skin a distant discomfort compared to the aching in his pants. He makes his way down Phil’s chest with his fingers and traces along his waistband. Phil whimpers against Dan’s chin.

“Fuck,” Dan sighs. “Can I...can I blow you?”

Phil’s one step ahead of him, pulling both their pants down and dancing his fingers along Dan’s hip. Dan sighs at the contact.

“Sure you don’t want a little itch cream?” Phil giggles, and Dan would slap him if his fingers weren’t sending delicious flames licking up his skin.

“It’s your dick it’s going on. You itchy, babe?”

“Itching for you,” Phil mumbles and it’s a miracle Dan doesn’t go limp right there. He pulls Phil’s cock to his mouth with perhaps more force than necessary and starts slowly licking and kissing around his tip, taking far too much pleasure in Phil’s writhing state.

It’s not long before Dan’s tongue has traveled all the way down and Phil’s moaning long and deep and scrabbling his fingers through Dan’s curls. Phil’s kissing his way down Dan’s chest, then pulls away quickly once he hits a still-red patch. The sudden absence of Phil’s lips sends a chill there, every nerve suddenly alight. Dan would ask, but he’s a bit...occupied. He flicks his eyes upwards, finding Phil shaking with silent giggles.

“Your fucking rash, Dan. You taste like itch cream.”

Dan almost chokes on Phil’s cock. He pulls it out with a pop, ignoring Phil’s puppy eyes for the moment. “You’re telling me you don’t like it?”

“I’m not used to your chest being so salty.”

“Well,” Dan raises an eyebrow, “I’m not used to yellow exercise shirts giving me an allergic reaction but I’m not complaining now.”

And he takes Phil in his mouth again, ending the conversation.

There’s sighs and whimpers and gasps and every sound is music coming from Phil, a symphony for Dan alone. Phil’s hands move from his curls and down his shoulders and the still sensitive skin at his side, gentle but needing. His lips send trails of fire down Dan’s chin and neck. When his fingers wrap around Dan’s cock, though, it’s with glorious relief that Dan sighs around him. _God._

Phil strokes up and down, making Dan tense against their pillows. He can feel Phil’s cock tensing around his tongue, hears the sharp gasp as he drags his teeth along the shaft ever so gently. Phil thrusts into him and Dan can tell that he’s close and _fuck_ , so is Dan now.

“God, Dan, I’m so close.” Dan can hear the anguish in his voice and it’s enough to send a shudder all through his body.

Dan just answers with a deep moan, which is apparently enough to send Phil shooting into him, warm and thick and beautiful. Within seconds, Dan’s coming into Phil’s fingers, warm and sticky and sweaty all over.

Dan still shakes at the pleasure, even after all these years. Phil’s shoulders shudder a little as Dan slides him out, pressing their lips together in the softest of embraces.

They’re sweet and lovely, these kisses, filling Dan’s brain with fuzz, but it’s a good fuzz this time. It’s a fuzz that has him appreciating every curve, every corner of Phil’s body, how the two of them fit together in every way like the dog puzzle Phil got for Christmas.

It really is so nice to have Phil back to keep Dan from lying alone in agony again.

And so they lie together against the soft mattress, Dan holding Phil against him and ready to drift off against Phil’s warm, sweet-smelling chest. That is, until Phil mumbles soft against Dan’s chest.

“We really do need to find what gave you that reaction, babe.”

Maybe they do. But is it so wrong to stay here at least a few more minutes?

 

\--

They’re holding hands on the balcony later that afternoon when Phil speaks up.

“Dan...have you ever thought about going back to Japan this year?”

Dan’s heart, so full and at peace a second ago, is in his throat. He finally tears his eyes away from the gorgeous cherry blossoms to stare into Phil’s, so wide and full of possibility behind his glasses. It pulls at something high in Dan’s chest.

“This year, like...after tour, before Christmas?”

It’s like someone’s lit a fire under Phil, every inch of him glowing under the April sun. And then it hits Dan with the weight of a freight train.

It’s been almost exactly three years since Japan.

Three years since the holiday of a lifetime. A trip just for them. A week Dan thought (he thought) his love for Phil had reached its peak, that he couldn’t possibly be any happier, any more in love than those few days. A week Dan had felt alive, the most alive he’d been since those early Manchester days.

God, if he could get that back…

“Yeah, it’s perfect!” Phil enthuses, drawing Dan back to the balcony. “October in Japan. Dan, just think about it. I know how much you love October. How amazing would it be to spend even part of it in our favorite place?”

The fantasy snatches the air from Dan’s lungs. Autumn, and Phil, and Japan? How wonderful would it be to watch their love grow indestructible in that magical place, during such a magical time?

A soft breeze ruffles his curls. His skin tingles under the soft cotton of his eclipse jumper, still a bit prickly where the hives haven’t quite disappeared. Dan can taste the Japanese sea, and it fills his heart with a longing he hasn’t felt so deeply in years. He squeezes Phil’s hand, tight, knowing his thoughts are in the same place.

But of course reality sends his heart sinking to the pavement far below. Dan can’t forget how he felt after the last tour. The exhaustion, the life that drained from him once the final hugs were shared and Phil had twisted the key into their drab, dull old flat. Sure, Dan’s hoping this year will be different. He’s got more supports in place, a much better handle on himself than he had two years ago.

But he can never be sure.

And he can’t deny that escaping to Japan, even if just for a few days, would send him crashing far further than he’s ever experienced.

He opens his eyes and trains them on Phil, hating to fade a glimmer of that wondrous, glowing smile. “God, Phil. You don’t know how much I want that. But…”

“But?”

Dan sighs. “Right after tour...it might be too soon. Next spring, maybe? I promise I’ll pull myself together by then.” He runs his thumb over the back of Phil’s hand, soft and slow.

The smile flickers, then burns again, brighter than the sun warming Dan’s shoulders. “Next spring would be wonderful. Any time would be wonderful, as long as it’s us. You know that.”

“Sap. But of course I do,” Dan smiles, something blooming in his stomach at the way Phil gazes back at him. It slips into Dan’s veins, coating him all over in a warmth the lovely spring weather couldn’t come close to touching. “And besides, don’t you want that corgi the second tour ends?”

“Mmmm, I suppose.” But the way Phil bites his lip and flexes his toes totally gives him away.

“We’ll make it back there, I promise you.” Dan presses a kiss to Phil’s forehead, quick but full of earnest. “I’ll make it my life’s mission.”

And as a cherry blossom flutters onto Phil’s shoulder, Dan tucks his head to his chest and takes note of the joy, the possibility snapping and popping and sending his heart to the skies above. The next few months may be a terrifying question mark, full of twists and changes Dan can’t possibly prepare himself for, but it’s nice to know that one thing won’t change.

The world may be spinning around him, constantly out of his control. But his world is staying right here.

In the end, what more could Dan ask for?

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on [Twitter](http://twitter.com/phloridas) and [Tumblr](http://phloridas.tumblr.com) @phloridas! 
> 
> Can y'all believe this is my first ever smut fic? (I mean, yeah, probably lol) I hope you enjoyed it anyway, and you're doing well wherever you are! <3


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